


Knight

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF Lestrade, First Kiss, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Moving In Together, Protective Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Greg rescued Sherlock from the party, he didn't expect it to lead to anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knight

Greg sipped the last of his drink and looked around. The party was starting to wind down. He should be heading back to his flat. Monday would be here all too soon and there was a paper to finish tomorrow. He tossed his cup and started for the door.

A glance into a partially open door stopped him in his tracks. He turned and pushed it the rest of the way open. A young man was slouched on a chair, looking more than half way to passed out. Greg recognized the man was standing over him with a predatory look. Brutus shared a class with him and Greg knew his reputation. It wasn't a good one.

"Oi, everything okay here?" Greg stepped into the room.

"Ah, yeah," said Brutus, turning to look Greg up and down as if to determine if they'd have to fight. "You can just go on, Lestrade."

"I don't think so." Greg took another step forward. 

Brutus moved between him and the stranger. "Look, don't stick your nose out, might get busted."

"What's his name?" asked Greg.

"Huh?"

"That's what I thought." Greg moved forward again and ducked as Brutus attempted to grab him, knocking the bigger man over and reaching the stranger. He looked like more like a kid then a uni student. How he'd ended up at this party, Greg didn't know, but he put an arm under his shoulder to help him up. The kid moved with him, but didn't even raise his head as Greg pushed Brutus again to keep him from finding his feet.

Carefully, Greg walked him out of the house and to his car. He got him into the passenger seat, for once glad he didn't have that motorcycle he'd been eying. After going around to the driver's side, he reached over to buckle him in. He patted the kids pockets, but didn't feel a mobile. With a sigh, he started the car and headed for his own place.

By the time they arrived, Greg could see he'd totally passed out. He briefly considered leaving him in the car, but knew it would be safer to bring him in. At least his last roommate had moved out a week ago. Bad for making the rent, but good for a moment like this. Greg went to his flat, unlocked and opened the door, then went back to the car, unbuckled his guest and heaved the kid into his arms, carrying him inside. He kicked the door closed behind him and settled him on the sofa. Greg went to get a glass of water and left it on the end table before tossing a light blanket over him and making sure he was laying on his side. Satisfied, he went to his own room, leaving the door open.

Greg woke up abruptly to a pale figure standing at the foot his bed, wrapped in the blanket. He cursed and sat up before he remembered the stranger he'd picked up the night before. "Hi there," he said weakly.

The figure frowned at him. "I don't remember what happened."

"Found you passed out at the party. Figured bringing you here was safer than leaving you there."

His frown deepened. "Someone was threatening me." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, well, he didn't look trustworthy. I'm Greg Lestrade."

"Sherlock Holmes." He got on the bed and crawled towards Greg.

Surprised, Greg sat back against the headboard. Sherlock lay himself on his side, head in Greg's lap. Unable to help himself, Greg ran his fingers through the tangle of dark hair. "Do you go to uni here?"

"Yes. I wished to observe, which was why I was there last night."

"Nothing wrong with observing. Someone probably just got to your drink," said Greg.

Sherlock said nothing and was quiet so long Greg thought he might have fallen back asleep. "Thank you," Sherlock said at last, very quietly.

Greg smiled. "You're welcome."

"I see you don't currently have a flatmate. I could move in."

Greg's hand stilled. "You only really met me this morning."

"So? Clearly you are trustworthy. You did not take advantage of me and you stopped someone else from doing so. You need a flatmate. And you're preparing for a career in law enforcement."

Now it was Greg's turn to frown. "How do you know that?"

"I told you, I observe."

Greg looked down at him a moment longer, then went back to petting his hair. "Yeah, I suppose that'll work. What are you in school for?"

"I don't have any particular major. I may not even graduate. But lately I've grown interested in the nature of crime. But no, I wouldn’t do well as a police officer. You will do admirably."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. We'll have to get furniture for the other bedroom."

"I have some. And my brother may try to interfere with you. Don't let him."

"Okay."

**

Sherlock was all moved in by the time Greg got back from his classes on Monday. Sherlock took off not long after he got home, telling him not to wait up. Greg couldn't help but chuckle at that as he settled down to do his homework. 

Only a few minutes after Sherlock left, there was a rather authoritative knock on the door. Greg got his feet to answer it and found an imperious man in a suit and an umbrella on his doorstep. "Gregory Lestrade."

"That would be me. How can I help you?"

"Sherlock Holmes has moved in with you." It wasn’t a question.

 _This must be the brother_. "Maybe so."

"What's the nature of your acquaintance?" Sharp blue eyes searched his own.

“He’s my flatmate. Look, do you want some tea or something?” Greg took a step back and gestured him inside.

He stepped in and looked around, taking the place in. Greg went to turn on the kettle, wishing he’d tidied up a bit more. “This will do,” he said, after a moment, producing a card and offering it to Greg. “My name is Mycroft Holmes. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

“That easy?” asked Greg, wary.

Mycroft fixed him with another look. “This is the most stable place he’s attempted to stay in several months. I am willing to give you a chance. Don’t dissapoint me.” And with that he was gone in a flurry of coat and umbrella.

Greg shook his head and went to fix himself some tea, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.

**

Sherlock came in sometime after three in the morning. Greg had been sleeping lightly and woke at the sound of the door. There was the sound of Sherlock stumbling and muttering something. Greg got up and went to the front room, catching the younger man as he tripped. “Hey, Sherlock, you all right?”

There was another barely audible mutter. Greg frowned and reached to turn on a light. Sherlock winced and looked away, but Greg had seen. “Are you _high_?”

Sherlock still refused to look at him. Greg sighed and turned the light off again, steering Sherlock towards his own bedroom. “You can’t stay here if you’re going to get high, Sherlock.”

“Everyone else leaves,” that was audible at least.

Greg shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you. I like having you around, even.” He sat Sherlock on his bed and knelt down to take off his shoes. Sherlock withdrew his feet and curled up on his side, tucked up in his blanket.

Sighing again, Greg went to fetch some water and leave it by his bed before returning to his own. He lay awake a long time, staring at the ceiling and wondering what he’d have to do.

Much like the first night, Greg woke to Sherlock hovering at the end of his bed. He looked bleary and tired. Greg was glad he didn’t have an early class as Sherlock climbed into bed next to him.

“Do you remember last night?” asked Greg.

“Mostly. You said I can’t stay here.” Sherlock mumbled against his side.

“I said you can’t stay here if you’re high. You’re brilliant, you don’t need drugs.” Greg carded his fingers through his hair.

“It calms me. You just don’t want me on drugs, because of you becoming a copper.”

“Hey, look at me.” Greg tilted Sherlock’s chin. “It’s not just that. It’s that I care about you. I know we’ve only known each other less than a week, but you matter to me.”

Sherlock searched his eyes as if expecting to find deceit. He frowned. “You mean that.”

“I do. Sincerely.” He put an arm around Sherlock and held him gently.

“So next time I take drugs, you’ll just kick me out?” asked Sherlock.

“That depends on you. An honest relapse? We’ll see. You do it just to spite me or test me, that’s a different matter.” Greg found he couldn’t keep his fingers out of Sherlock’s hair.

“Understood,” said Sherlock after a few long moments of silence.

“Good, get some sleep, I know you didn’t get much last night.” Greg kissed the top of his head without much thought and soon enough was dozing off himself.

**

They next few days Sherlock was mostly there in the evenings. If he went out, he came home sober. Mostly he fiddled with some experiment he’d set up in the corner of the living room that Greg didn’t want to look at too closely. Greg never saw him crack a textbook, but he did wander over to help him a couple times when he was frustrated with an assignment. It did nothing to dissuade Greg from the opinion that he was a genius.

Friday night, Greg had an invitation to go listen to one of his mates bands at a local pub. He asked Sherlock to come, but he shook his head, said he wasn’t interested, and went back to his experiments. Greg went, but his mind kept wandering back to Sherlock. There’d been no further sign of the drugs and he was hopeful Sherlock was actually getting clean.

It was near midnight when he got home, and the flat was dark as he unlocked the door. Quietly, so as not to wake his flatmate, he crossed the living room to his own door. It was slightly ajar and Greg pushed it open.

Sherlock was curled up in his bed, face buried in Greg’s pillow. Smiling, Greg stepped out of his jeans and slid in behind Sherlock, spooning around him. Sherlock mumbled in his sleep and snuggled back against him. Greg wrapped an arm around him and was soon sound asleep.

When he woke the next morning, Sherlock was watching him. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” said Greg, threading their hands together. “That’s why I wanted you to come.”

“I don’t really like crowds,” admitted Sherlock.

“Well, maybe we can go somewhere together today, just you and me, yeah?”

Sherlock nodded. Greg watched him, the sunlight haloing his sleep-mussed hair. Slowly, trying not to startle him, he leaned forward and gave Sherlock a gentle kiss.

“Oh,” whispered Sherlock melting into it.

Greg pulled back and smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “And I don’t mind waking up to you in my bed either.

“Good,” said Sherlock with a soft smile of his own. “I’ll be certain to be here more often.”

“Good,” echoed Greg. He didn’t quite know where all of this would lead, but he was content, and maybe even happy, with Sherlock in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> For the fuckyeahteenlock rare pairs contest.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
